She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. " "Murdered!" ejaculated Winifred. " The stranger said nothing, but hastily brushed away a tear. I know nothing about the girl, save what you have told me. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. ‘You do not understand, Gérard. shouldn’t be friends. "Few stay more than a day. I can fairly understand Ruth; but you…!" "Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in anguish? Twentyfour hours a day to think in, alone?… Perhaps I did not want to go mad from loneliness.
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